…
Tugging a fist through his damp hair Sam slumps to the grass, spent.
"I remember the first time I saw you," he whispers, the salt scented breeze caressing his words like an old lover.
"Really saw you.
It was a Thursday, after school. My mother was speaking to yours. You were there, watching the team as they practiced. Of course I was late because Mr. Burgundy had put me on detention.
But you were there.
Your hair was pulled back from your face, a slight smirk on your lips. You'd obviously come to watch your brother and his friends try out for the team. Seth and Jake always were connected at the hip. And you supported them no matter what."
Sam chuckles slightly as he picks at the wet grass.
"Paul knew you. Had spoken to you. No doubt flirted. And that afternoon he made you laugh. I was pissed at him for a whole week because I wanted to be the one that made you laugh. Stupid, I know. It wasn't his fault really."
Looking at the blades of grass falling through each of his fingers, Sam sighs, feeling the familiar lump build in his throat. Everyday for the last two months he's comes here and told her a story. Of many firsts. Of their firsts.
"By the next weeks practice I'd finally found the guts to introduce myself.
To my surprise you already knew my name. I wasn't sure if you'd heard about my father like the rest of the reservation had or if it was because you'd watched me practice before. I'd hoped it was the latter.
We talked. You'd made fun of my uniform. I'd told you that you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I think we both blushed at that.
Me and my big mouth, right?"
Closing his eyes, Sam swallows past the clench in his chest from the imprint. It pulls him in a different direction, but his human self wants to be here. With her. With Leah. Even if it is just for a moment.
"If things had been different, Leah…" he begins, losing his words to the soft patter of rain falling around them both. He can see her as clear as day. The wet inky hair sticking to her face from the rain. Those deep hazel eyes. Soft red lips. Her tinkling laughter. Her heart.
"If I had have been… more. If I would have ignored you that day and never introduced myself, maybe we both wouldn't be here. I'm so so sorry, Leah."
His breath catches in his throat and he exhales jaggedly.
"I don't know if you can hear me, wherever you are. But I make this promise to you, one that no matter what, I will never break.
I promise to come here, back to you, every day of my life.
As long as it takes for you to forgive me."
He glances down at the torrid grey stone and lays the bright yellow flowers down. Tomorrow he'll tell her another story.
Tomorrow - he'll apologise again.
Here lies Leah Clearwater...